The Twelve Days of Christmas
by Chibi's Sister
Summary: Joey goes about getting Mai's attention in a very unconventional way. Polarshipping.
1. Prologue

A/N: This is just a crazy/fluffy/random Christmas idea that's been bouncing around in my head for years. I figured this year I should actually write it. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

Prologue

* * *

_December 9__th_

The storefronts in the city of Domino were covered in colored lights and evergreen garlands—okay, so they were fake, but they were still festive. The sound of sleighbells filled the frosty air. There were carolers, and Santas ringing bells on the sidewalks, and huge store displays, and Christmas carols playing in every mall, and—well, you get the picture. It was Christmastime. Everything was festive. Everyone was merry.

All except for one.

Well, okay, so there were probably a lot of people who weren't feeling particularly merry at that moment. After all, Christmas is a very stressful time of year—all that shopping, and baking, and obnoxious relatives coming over. More suicides occur during the Christmas season than at any other time of year, after all. But the point is, there was one _particular _person that this story is about that was unhappy at this moment and the reason why that person was unhappy is the whole point of this story, so stop griping over details and pay attention.

The person was Joey Wheeler. It was kind of surprising, because Joey was usually such a energetic, cheerful person, particularly when there was food around, but for the past couple of days, he had been downright…mopey.

Téa frowned at him. She knew Joey didn't particularly care for shopping, but they'd been out less than an hour, and Joey already looked like the Grinch had stolen his Christmas tree. She fished in her purse for a candycane. "Here, Joey. Have some sugar. This outta help make your season bright." She waved it in front of his face.

Joey just looked away. "Nah. No thanks, Téa."

"Ooh! Can I have it?" Tristan said eagerly, but Téa didn't pay attention to him. She stared at Joey blankly.

"Did he just…turn down food?" She blinked. "Hey, Joey, are you okay? What's going on?" When the blond boy didn't answer, she frowned. "Did something happen with your dad?"

Joey shook his head.

"He's probably still down in the dumps because Kaiba owned his butt at the Dueltide Tournament last week," Tristan scoffed, still eying Téa's candycane.

With a sigh, Téa tossed the candy to him. "Joey doesn't normally _mope_ like this just because he got beat. He gets mad. If he was still worked up about that, he'd be working on his deck and throwing around a lot of trash talk about how he's going to kick 'rich boy's' butt the next time they meet."

"You got me there," Tristan admitted, nibbling on the end of the candycane. "But he's been acting like this since the tournament ended. What else could it be?"

Téa thought carefully. The Dueltide Tournament had been a relatively low-key, normal event compared to all the crazy stuff they normally went through. It was just a small charity tournament Kaiba had thrown to raise money for Christmas gifts for the kids in a local orphanage. Téa hadn't been able to see Kaiba without the phrase "His heart grew three sizes that day" running through her head, but aside from that, it had gone smoothly. No magic, no soul-snatching weirdness, and best of all, no evil masterminds trying to destroy the world, or just take over a company. It'd just been the usual crowd, Kaiba, Yugi, and Joey, of course, along with Rex Raptor, Weevil Underwood, Bonz, Espa Roba, Mako Tsunami, Mai Valentine…._Mai_. Téa turned and gave Joey a long appraising look.

"Joey," she said carefully, "does this have anything to do with Mai?"

Joey nodded glumly.

"But you guys got along during Dueltide and everything," Tristan pointed out. "She acted like you were just an old friend, like the whole Dartz thing never went down."

Joey nodded, looking even more dejected.

"Hoo-boy," Téa said. "I see the problem."

"You do?" Tristan scratched his head. "'Cuz I'm lost."

"You would be, monkey boy." Téa sighed. "Okay, think of it this way. What if Serenity came to visit and she greeted you 'like you were just an old friend?'"

"Point taken."

Joey glared at him. Then he threw up his hands and gave a cry of frustration that caused half of the heads in the shopping mall to whip around. "I just don't know what to do! I gotta let Mai know how I feel about her!"

"Why don't you just talk to her?" Téa suggested.

Joey shook his head. "Nah, it'd just be all sentimental and crap."

"Girls _like_ sentimental crap," Téa said with a smile. "It doesn't have to be some big production, Joey. Sometimes, a quiet conversation is all a girl needs."

"Not Mai," Joey said. "Mai's into _flashy_."

"He's got a point there," Tristan admitted, throwing a look at Téa.

Joey scuffed his sneaker on the floor. "Mai deserves…I gotta do this right. I just gotta. But I don't know how."

_On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a pear tree…_

Joey's ears pricked and a strange expression crossed his face. "What's that?" he asked in an awestruck tone.

Téa and Tristan looked around, but saw nothing. "What, the music?" Téa said. "The Twelve Days of Christmas, silly." She made a face. "And it's that really annoying arrangement with the electric guitars, too. Ugh."

"The Twelve Days of Christmas," Joey repeated to himself, still looking dazed.

"Are you okay?" Téa asked him suspiciously. "Don't tell me you've never heard that song before."

"No, no, it's not that. It just…" Joey grinned, a full, huge grin that was cheerier than Téa had ever seen him wear. "I think I've got it! But I'm going to need your help."

Téa exchanged glances with Tristan. Tristan crossed his arms. "Whatever half-baked plan you just came up is bound to be a disaster," he said. "And I don't particularly feel like getting caught in the middle of it."

Before Joey could protest, Téa grabbed Tristan's arm and drug him off to the side. "Can't you see how important this is to Joey?" she hissed at him. "We're talking about his future happiness here!"

"Yeah, but—"

"Besides," Téa added in a more cajoling tone, "You do realize that once Joey and Mai get together, it'll make it a lot easier for you to make some progress with Serenity without Joey breathing down your neck, don't you?"

Tristan considered this. "Joey is my best friend," he said. "How could I refuse to help him in his time of need?"

"That's the spirit!" Téa clapped him on the back, and went back over to Joey. "We're in," she told him. "So, what's the plan?"


	2. A Partridge in a Pear Tree

Chapter One: A Partridge in a Pear Tree

_December 13_

"Oof, this thing is heavy."

"Quit complaining, Tristan, and just lug the thing. Hurry up, my hands are freezing."

"Oh, easy for you to say, Téa. You don't have to carry the thing. Why'd you have to get a tree, anyway, Joey?"

"It's in the song, dummy."

"Hey, watch who you're calling dummy. Remember who's helping you carry a tree to your girlfriend's hotel room."

"She's not my girlfriend. Yet."

"It is in the song, y'know. _On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me a partridge in a pear tree_."

"We're kinda trying to carry a tree here, Téa. The last thing we need right now is your singing. Ouch! That was my foot."

"I know."

"Sheesh. So, anyway, are you getting her a bird, too?"

"Bird?"

"Uh, the partridge, Joey. The one that's in the pear tree."

"That's a bird?"

"Yes, that's a bird. What did you think it was?"

"Uh…never mind."

"Never mind? Joey, what—"

"It's under control, Téa. I promise."

"Do you trust him? Cuz I don't trust him."

"It's his show, Tristan. Let him run it."

"How come we're doing this _today_, anyway?"

"Because it's twelve days 'til Christmas, genius."

"What'd I say about the name-calling? Anyway, _genius,_ the twelve days of Christmas are the twelve days after Christmas, not before it. They're the days from Christmas Day to Epiphany."

"Wow. And you call me a nerd."

"Heh. Looked it up on Wikipedia. I kinda got interested in this whole thing."

"That's great, Tristan. Now get interested in helping me lug this thing up the stairs."

"Y'know, I really don't think the hotel's going to be okay with this if they catch us. Technically, this is breaking and entering."

"That's why we brought Téa. She's the lookout. If anyone comes snooping around, she'll whistle."

"And we'll do what? We're carrying a tree! Up a fire escape!"

"Aw, quit your yapping and _heave_."

* * *

Mai Valentine looked out the window of her hotel room onto the bleak Domino streets and sighed. What was she doing here? Kaiba's Dueltide tournament was over and done, the fourth place trophy already beginning to collect dust on her nightstand. She ought to go home.

If only she knew where that was.

Since leaving Dartz and Paradias behind her, she'd wandered, from city to city, tournament to tournament, never staying more than two weeks in any one place. Just like she'd been doing before the nutjobs with the magic rock came into her life. Only, instead of the free-spirited gypsy she'd pictured herself as when she set out from Battle City, or even the little lost child she'd felt like when Valon had found her, she was beginning to feel like Cain.

Why had she come here?

Well, for the tournament, of course. But there were lots of tournaments, and this one wasn't particularly large or prominent. The prize money wasn't great—it was a charity event, for heavens sake—and with big names like Kaiba and Yugi competing, it was almost certain she wouldn't get it. As far as establishing herself a duelist went…Pfffh, she wasn't in any kind of shape to be taking on such heavy hitters and she knew it. She was practically grateful that she had been matched against Yugi in the finals; there was no threat of damage to her cred from losing to _him_.

All of which brought her to the unpleasant conclusion that there wasn't any real reason for her to be here at all.

Well, maybe one.

No, she had burned that bridge a long time ago. There wasn't any going back now. She had promised herself she would let that go, forget about him. He had obviously forgotten about her. The cheerful, carefree sound of his voice when he spoke to her…Who knew that happiness could be so painful?

Mai sighed and turned away from the window. Maybe she should just pack up and go…wherever. Forget whatever dumb deal the hotel had about "Holiday Inn for the Holidays."

She went to fix herself a cup of coffee, when a flash of light caught her eye. She stopped and looked out the sliding glass door onto the little balcony attached to her room. She frowned.

Had that tree always been there?

Grabbing her winter coat off the hook and shrugging it on, Mai opened the door and went out to the balcony. Sure enough, there was a little potted tree standing in the corner of the balcony, not much more than a sapling. It looked like a fruit tree, maybe an apple tree, or…Mai noticed a clear CD case tied to one of its branches. That must have been what had caught the light. She undid the red yarn and turned the CD case over in her hands. Inside the case was one of those blank CDs, with "Mai" scrawled across the front. There was no other writing on it.

Mai frowned at the CD. Who would send her this, and why in such a strange way? Still staring at the CD, Mai went back inside, and put the CD in her laptop. Within a few seconds, her music player popped up.

_I was sleeping and right in the middle of a good dream…_

What the heck was this?

_Before I go insane I hold my pillow to my head_

_And spring up in my bed screaming out the words I dread_

Mai's frown eased into a slightly perplexed smile as she listened to the words of the corny old song. Who in the world could have sent this to her?

_I think I love you so what am I so afraid of_

_I'm afraid that I'm not sure of a love there is no cure for_

_I think I love you isn't that what life is made of_

_Though it worries me to say that I've never felt this way_

Mai shook her head, both bemused and amused. While she still had no idea who had sent her the CD—and what was with the tree?—she had to admit it was kinda sweet. Still, without a doubt, it was strangest present she had ever received.

Oh, if she had only known.


	3. Two Turtledoves

Chapter Two: Two Turtledoves

_December 14_

"Man, I'm just two days in, and I've already got a major problem," Joey groaned.

Téa looked up from the December issue of _Pointe_. "Really? What's wrong?"

"It's the turtledoves. The next verse of the song of calls for two turtledoves. But where the heck am I going to find those?"

"Um…the pet store?"

"Yeah, right, Téa, like any pet store in Domino is going to sell mutant turtle-dove hybrids."

* * *

"Oh. So that's what turtledoves are." Joey stared at the mottled brown doves through the bars of the cages at Petz R Us. "I guess they don't have shells after all."

"Dude, I can't believe you thought they were mutants," Tristan chuckled. "They're kind of cute little guys, aren't they?"

"Aww, you're such a sensitive guy," Téa teased. "You're right, though they are. Mai is going to love them!"

Joey sighed. "She would, but I can't get them."

"But why not?" Téa asked, startled.

Joey pointed at the price tag. "Too expensive. I've got ten more days to go and I can't blow my money on these birds, not at $25 dollars a pop."

"You got a point," Tristan admitted. "You'll be running errands for Téa for the rest of your life."

Joey ran his hands through his blond mop in frustration. "Man, what am I going to do? I can't just give up now! That would lamer than if I'd never done anything at all."

"Chill," Téa said. "We can still do this. We just have to get a little creative, that's all." She checked her wristwatch. "It's only three. If we don't waste time, we can have those turtledoves to Mai before seven. Now come on."

"Where are we going?"

Téa smiled. "The grocery store."

* * *

Mai had moved the pear tree inside. The little tag around the trunk said it was a Chanticleer Pear, and while it was supposed to be able to withstand temperate conditions, she didn't think it was supposed to be outside it the middle of winter with just a little pot full of dirt. She didn't know if moving it inside would help any, but it made her feel better.

She was just filling up a cup so she could water the little sapling, and pondering again who had sent her the tree and the "I Think I Love You" CD—she had finally gotten it when she had read the tree's label, a "Partridge" and a pear tree—when she noticed something on the little side table on the balcony.

Within minutes, she was outside, staring down at a little pink paper plate, on which there were…two really strange looking candies.

Each had a circular base of pecans and chocolate, like one of those turtle candies, only with a Dove chocolate square stuck on top.

Oh. Heh. Well, that was different.

As she carried the plate inside, Mai threw a look over her shoulder for the gift-giver that was nowhere to be seen, and took a tiny nibble of one of her "turtle-doves."


	4. Three French Hens

A/N: Sorry this one is late, and kind of lame. Finals week sucks.

Chapter Three: Three French Hens

_December 15_

"According to Wikipedia, some French varieties of chicken are Faverolles, Bresse, Crevecoeur—I'm probably butchering these, heh, get it, 'butchering'?"

"We get it, Tristan. Go on."

"Well, there's a couple other ones, but I like the Faverolles. They look pretty awesome."

Téa leaned over and looked at the computer screen. "They look really strange. Why are their feathers so puffed up?"

"Who do I look like, Farmer Brown? How should I know?"

"Thanks, anyway, Tristan, but I just don't think Mai wants chickens. I mean, can you really see her with a coop full of hens going 'Here, chicky, chicky'?"

"Well, no," Téa admitted grudgingly. "But what are you going to do? I mean it's right there in the song, 'three French hens.""

"Thank you for not singing."

"Quiet you." Téa glared at Tristan.

Joey scratched his head. "Maybe there's some way we can point a spin on it, like we did with those candies." He turned to Tristan. "Do a search for 'hen,' Maybe it means some other things besides chickens."

Tristan's fingers clicked over the keys. "Well, it also means female octopus or female lobster. Any prospects there?"

Joey made a face. "Octopus? I don't think so. And I don't have any money to take her out for lobster or anything."

"Anything else?" Téa asked.

Tristan frowned at the page. "Not really. Not unless you think Mai would be into a seinen manga with yuri themes."

"_Tristan._" Joey gave him a Look.

Tristan put up his hands. "Hey, I'm not saying she would be. You wanted to know the options."

"Alright, alright. Let's not have a fight about this, shall we boys?" Téa got to her feet. "Let's just go shopping and see what we find, okay?"

Tristan eyed her suspiciously. "You just want an excuse to go shopping, don't you?"

Joey grabbed his arm. "C'mon, monkey boy."

* * *

Two hours and half a dozen stores later, they had settled for three dollar store porcelain figures that Téa thought were pretty, Joey thought were cheap, and Tristan thought were enough already. Before they had made it out of the mall, however, Joey was already dissatisfied.

"But they're not French," he said. "They're just hens."

"Oh brother," Tristan muttered. "C'mon, Joey, my feet are killing me here."

"No, he's got a point," Téa admitted. She scratched her scalp for a moment. "Hmm, tell you what…" Before Joey and Tristan knew quite what had happened, she had dragged them to a craft store and down an aisle full of doll accessories.

"It's a GIRLY AISLE!" Joey and Tristan shuddered together, trying to bolt for it. Téa grabbed the backs of their coats, shaking her head.

"Cool your jets, you two. You're not going to catch cooties from standing in the same aisle as a dollhouse. Now c'mere and look at this, Joey."

"They're…little black circles?"

Téa sighed. "They're berets, Joey. Y'know, _French_ berets."

"Oh, for the chickens." Joey grinned. "I like it."

So they bought the berets and glued them on the figurines' heads with Téa's craft glue. Later, Joey climbed up the fire escape to Mai's balcony and arranged them on the little table. He frowned. Even with the berets, they still didn't seem all that French. Then he had an idea. He fished in his jacket pockets and came up with a black sharpie.

* * *

Mai blinked as she stared down at what she assumed was her "third day of Christmas" present. "They're pretty cute," she said, "but if they're hens…why do they have handlebar mustaches?"


	5. Four Calling Birds

Chapter Four: Four Calling Birds

_December 16_

It was nearly six o'clock, and Mai was beginning to wonder where her present was.

Okay, so maybe that sounded a little crass, but personal growth and development aside, she _was_ a material girl, after all. What? There wasn't anything wrong with enjoying one's possessions, was there? No.

Besides, you can't start sending someone gifts with a Twelve Days of Christmas theme and then just _stop _after day three. Mai had to confess to an increasingly ravenous curiosity about her series of gifts—and their mysterious sender.

She'd been camped out in front of the sliding glass door with a mug of hot cocoa for nearly two hours now, hoping to catch a glance of whoever it was that was sending the gifts. So far he—well, she supposed it _could_ be a she, but Mai really hoped not—was a no-show. Lame. Still, Mai didn't want to get up. She had this feeling that the minute she left, that was when the present would materialize.

The phone rang.

Great. With a sigh, Mai got to her feet and answered it, trying to keep the balcony in sight. "Hello?"

"Wiirree, chiirreewiirree, cheeerreeweeerrrreeee."

What on earth? It sounded kind of like a gerbil and a canary in a catfight.

"Is this some kind of prank?" Mai demanded into the phone.

The sound just played itself over, exactly the same. This time, she thought it sounded a bit more like a seagull having a seizure.

"Who is this?" Mai wanted to know. But the line went dead.

Shaking her head, Mai went back to her seat near the balcony. The gift still hadn't come.

About ten minutes later, the phone rang again.

"Hello?" Mai said.

"Coo-coo-coo-cooo. Coo-coo-coo-coo. Coo-coo-coo-cooo."

Not again. "Look, you," Mai gritted into the phone. "I don't appreciate having my time wasted. Don't call me again." She slammed the phone down.

Not five minutes later, the phone rang yet again. Before Mai could even say hello, she heard, "Chirp-chirp chip-chip-cheep." It was high and squeaky, but musical and not at all unpleasant. It was clearly some kind of songbird.

_Bird_. Everything clicked into place, and Mai laughed as she hung up the phone. The phone rang again almost instantly.

"Hello?" she said sweetly, wondering what the last of the four calling birds would be.

"Awk, Merry Christmas, awk."

Mai laughed again. "Thank you," she told the parrot, although she doubted it was actually there. She wondered if the gift-giver was listening. "Merry Christmas to you too."

* * *

A/N: To hear the first three bird calls, go to eNature Field Guides. They are, in order, Leach's Storm-Petrel, Black-billed Cuckoo, and Horned Lark.


	6. Five Golden Rings

A/N: So this one came out more mushy than funny...and yet somehow I'm okay with that. BTW, I know I'm terribly behind. I'm not giving up, though, and while the story might not be finished by Christmas, it should be by Epiphany (when the actual Twelve Days would end).

Chapter Five: Five Golden Rings

_December 17__th_

With just over a week left until Christmas, Mai simply couldn't waste the day lounging around the hotel room, even if she was dying of curiosity to know who was sending her the gifts. There were precious few shopping days left, so Mai hit the Domino Mall bright and early, hoping to avoid the worst of the crowds.

In a way, crowds _were _part of the Christmas Shopping Experience, of course. It just wouldn't quite be the same to waltz through deserted aisles and just select everything you wanted. There would be no _excitement _in it, no festive fervor crackling in the air, competing with the raw hunter-gatherer instincts just dying for an outlet in modern consumerism. No, it wasn't that Mai wanted no crowds at all. But she did confess to rather patrician tastes that did not include rubbing shoulders with mobs of stressed-out soccer moms desperately ransacking the stores for last-minutes gifts. So the light late-morning crowd suited her just fine.

She browsed through the stores, not really sure exactly what she was looking for. She'd get the usual obligatory gifts for her parents, of course. Something expensive, maybe a little gaudy, and unabashedly impersonal. Mai looked through a basket of bundled designer perfumes, and wondered idly if her mother still wore that florid lemon rose scent.

Besides her parents, there wasn't really anyone else to buy gifts for. She was estranged from her family—the yearly gifts to her parents were her own peculiar act of defiance—and there was no man in her life this year. Well, except for her "Secret Santa", whoever he might be. Mai grinned as her eyes skimmed over aisles of glitzy tree decorations. She couldn't help but wonder what form her "golden rings" would take. Every day, her mysterious admirer seemed to be more creative. Possibilities danced in her mind. Five copies of Tammy Wynnette's album? Tickets to the Vancouver Olympics? Not that she had any objection to his fulfilling the terms of the song in a literal way, of course, although five rings did seem to be a little superfluous.

Who was sending her the gifts, anyway? Mai had any number of admirers, but such boldness and such creativity was an unusual combination for the type of men she generally attracted. She just hoped it wasn't Magnum again. That would be disappointing. Actually, pretty much any of the wealthy men whose eye she'd caught over the years would be disappointing. Mai admitted to accepting plenty of expensive gifts—fine jewelry, designer clothing, perfumes, cars—in exchange for a short-lived flirtation, but she couldn't help hope that whoever was behind the "Twelve Days of Christmas" scheme—already, she had started to label him "my true love" in her mind—was motivated more by romance than materialism. It would be a nice change of pace from her usual relationships.

Well, there was Valon. Aside from the supernatural powers and rare cards involved, there had been nothing crass or material about their fleeting…attachment, or whatever you wanted to call it. And there was Joey.

Mai swallowed. Hadn't she promised herself not to think about him? But that was the promise she kept breaking. Mai sighed. In her weaker moments, she'd even allowed herself to imagine it was Joey sending the gifts. But that was improbable. For one, she'd picked up enough hints from him and the gang to gather that Joey didn't have much money. The gifts for the Twelve Days of Christmas were expensive. For another…why would Joey still be carrying a torch for her? There wasn't any reason in the world for him to do so. After Battle City, well, she had to admit she hadn't discouraged him from thinking that maybe someday there would be a future for them, but after everything that had happened with Dartz and Paradias…it was hard to believe he would wait around after that. His arms-length attitude during the Dueltide tournament only confirmed her suspicions. Joey Wheeler was over her.

* * *

Joey's goofy grin stretched from ear to ear as he tiptoed onto the balcony of Mai's hotel room. "Great, she's gone," he said to himself, noticing that all the lights were off in the windows. He tried the door, but it was locked. He'd have to leave it on the table outside, like usual. Joey laid the white jewelry box down, not without throwing a few nervous looks in every direction. This thing had cost him a month's paper deliveries and the last thing he wanted was for it to get nabbed by some low life thief.

But boy would it look great around Mai's neck. Joey closed his eyes, picturing the gold necklace with its five interlocking rings jangling along Mai's creamy throat. Okay, so his thoughts went a little father down her neckline than the necklace would, but, hey, he was a guy. While picturing Mai's impressive figure was far from unpleasant, it was picturing the sparkle in her eyes that the necklace would bring that made Joey's smile widen—if such a thing was even possible. He ran his hand over the long white box a final time, almost a caress, before he walked away, whistling off-key "All I Want for Christmas is You."


	7. Six Geese A Laying

Chapter Six: Six Geese A-Laying

_December 18__th_

"Are you sure this is such a good idea, Joey?" Téa asked worriedly. Suddenly, she glanced down at her shoe. "Oh, gross."

Joey sighed. "Look, Téa, I tried to do all that creative crap, but I just don't have any ideas. Geese are geese."

"Yeah," Tristan was forced to agree. "You go to Wikipedia and it's just like: Goose. Like the animal. I mean, there's some other stuff…like some kinds of aircraft, and some strange people with the last name "Goose" and some fairy tales, and Goose Guandong virus." He scratched his head. "That's a weird one."

"You mean bird flu?" Téa arched her eyebrow. "I don't think we want to give Mai that."

"No kidding," Joey muttered. He eyed the small flock of birds that were squabbling around their ankles. "You don't think any of these birds got that Gondong virus thing, do ya?"

Téa looked down. "It's unlikely," she said after a moment. "Not impossible, but unlikely."

"Don't worry about it," Tristan dismissed with a careless wave. "They look pretty healthy to me." He bent down to the geese. "Aren't you healthy, yes you are, yes you are, you good little goosey."

Joey and Téa stared at him. "Did you just baby-talk to a goose?" Téa said finally.

"What? It's a very cute goose." Tristan went to chuck the goose under the chin when it snapped at his fingers. "Ow!"

"Yeah, real cute, Tristan," Joey said dryly.

"Nasty little waterfowl," Tristan muttered. "Where did you get these guys anyway?"

Joey shrugged. "Some farmer was giving them away, free to a good home."

"And how much did they charge _you_?" Tristan teased, then stopped. "Wait, we have farms in Domino?"

"Surprisingly, yes. There are large fertile areas just outside the city limits," Téa told him.

Tristan rolled his eyes. "Guess _somebody_ paid attention during Celebrate Domino week."

"We had Celebrate Domino week?" Joey asked.

Téa ignored the boys. She was frowning at the geese, the six Greylag geese that were squawking, flapping, pecking, and pooping around their feet. "Joey, do you really think Mai's going to like this?"

"Are you kidding?" Joey grinned. "Mai's going to love it!"

* * *

Mai was going crazy. It had been less than an hour since the sound of honking had woken her up from her beauty sleep and already she wanted to rip her hair out. Actually, she wanted to rip the hair out of whoever had sent her this stupid gift. Six live geese, what had he been thinking? Actually, this gift was the strongest spark of hope she'd had yet that Joey was the one sending her the gifts. Who else would be so hare-brained? Magnum would have sent glass figurines or something.

Well, regardless of who had sent her the geese, something had to be done about them. Mai surveyed the hotel room in dismay. She was going to get herself kicked out of here. There were goose feathers all over, and little green pellets of goose poop on the carpet, and well, live geese tramping everywhere, honking loud enough to wake the dead and most certainly the neighbors.

In retrospect, she probably shouldn't have let them into the hotel room, but they just looked so cold and miserable, honking out there on the snow-crusted balcony and Mai hadn't been able to resist. Weren't they supposed to have flown south for the winter, anyway? They ought to be Hawaii right now, or at least Florida, enjoying a little R and R. Instead, they were inside a Holiday Inn suite where they were attempting to enjoy the branches of the artificial Christmas tree she'd picked up yesterday during her shopping trip. In a few minutes, they would start attacking the throw pillows again.

Mai sighed as she fished a stale, half-eaten cinnamon bun from the paper bag on the counter. She broke pieces off and tossed them to the geese. They would've been kind of cute if they weren't so loud, and messy, and smelly. Like on a Christmas card or something.

When the cinnamon roll was gone, Mai pulled out the Yellow Pages and rifled through it until she found a reputable-looking petting zoo. She dialed the number.

"Hello? Look, I have some geese that are in need of a good home."

"Um, domesticated, I think? Not toilet trained, though."

"Inoculations? Honestly, I haven't the slightest idea. Look, these six geese just showed up on my balcony, and I—"

"Yes, like the Christmas song."

"No, they're not laying eggs. At least not as far as I can tell." Mai peered suspiciously at the birds. "I don't actually think geese lay eggs in December."

"No, this is not a crank call. The geese are right here, okay, in my hotel room. Look, I'll put one on for you if you want." Mai held the receiver up to one of the geese, who honked angrily at her. "There, do you believe me now?" she demanded. "You'll come pick them up? That would be amazing. Merry Christmas to you too."

With a sigh of relief, Mai put down the phone. She looked at the geese and then at the Yellow Pages. "Now I just need to call a good carpet cleaner."


	8. Seven Swans A Swimming

Chapter Seven: Seven Swans A-Swimming

_December 19__th_

Téa had finished her Christmas baking yesterday. She'd made her rounds to all the neighbors, delivering elegantly arranged plates of cookies and Christmas wishes. She'd also stopped by Mai's hotel room with the same. She hadn't stayed long, and she'd been carefully ignorant and innocent when Mai mentioned the gifts she'd been getting, but Téa had stayed long enough to ascertain two things: One, Mai loved the whole "Twelve Days of Christmas" thing. Two, the geese had been a flop.

So when Joey came over her house that afternoon—it was Saturday, so no school, and Téa couldn't exactly go over his house—the first thing Téa did was make sure that Joey wasn't going to inflict any more birds on Mai.

"Uh, Joey, you're not planning to do the whole swan thing _literally_, are you?"

"Wasn't planning on it, no," he said. "I mean, where would I get live swans in Domino in the middle of winter?"

"Well, it's not really the middle of winter. Actually, it isn't winter at all. Winter doesn't officially start until the winter solstice, December 21st. So, technically it's still fall."

Joey blinked at her. "I still won't be able to find any swans, Téa."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Téa rubbed her forehead in relief. She didn't want to break it to Joey that his last gift hadn't been such a success, but the last thing she wanted was for Joey to inflict seven more waterfowl on Mai. "So what are you going to get her?"

Joey helped himself to one of the cookies from the plate on the counter. "I've got a couple of ideas," he said with a grin. "Seven, to be exact." He took a bite of the cookie, then said, through a mouthful of crumbs, "By the way, I'm going to need to borrow some money."

* * *

After breakfast, when Mai had first glanced out to the balcony, she had been surprised to see something lying on the table. It was still pretty early. Her other gifts hadn't shown up until the afternoon. Still, she went out to find…a bar of soap.

She turned it over in her hand, wondering if she was missing something. But no, it was just ordinary bar of Swan soap, the cardboard packing slightly distorted from the morning dew. Mai brought it inside and laid it on the counter, frowning. If that was supposed to be her seven swans a-swimming, well, then she had a few words to say to her "true love."

She moped around in a funk for a while, and then put on another pot of coffee while she distracted herself with putting on her makeup and fixing her hair. Looking great had always been her consolation from the world's disappointments and it didn't let her down today. By the time Mai was done, she hadn't precisely forgotten about the disappointing gift, but she had stopped dwelling on it.

So she was caught completely off-guard when, a few hours later, she noticed there was something _else_ on the balcony.

It was a small, silver Christmas ornament in the shape of—what else?—a swan. Mai touched it gently. It wasn't much—Mai was well-versed enough in material possessions to recognize a trinket when she saw one—but it was pretty, and elegant, and, well, she loved it. How had she overlooked this when she was picking up that awful soap bar?

Mai hung the swan on one of the top branches of her Christmas tree, where it caught the light of the star on the top and shimmered elegantly. Mai admired it for a while, and then went back to what she'd been working on last night, going through newspapers and online sites to find news of different tournaments, especially those with hefty prize money. She was working on an itinerary for the next couple months.

It wasn't until lunch when she noticed the book outside. _The Trumpet of the Swan_, by E.B. White. Mai vaguely remembered reading it in fourth grade. It definitely hadn't been there before. She would have noticed it. Besides, the dew which had warped the cardboard soapbox hadn't touched the book. Hmmm. Mai was beginning to get an inkling of what her gift-giver had planned. She thumbed through the book over her room-service Italian wedding soup and diet cola. Mai didn't do much reading, but maybe during her Christmas down-time…

That was when she noticed there was another book outside. This time it was a glossy children's picture book of _The Ugly Duckling._ "Gee, what are you trying to say," Mai muttered, but without any real ire. She'd never really connected personally to the story—she'd always been pretty, even as a child—but it was still sweet.

Now that she had figured out the gift-giver's modus operandi for the day, it was hard to wait for the next present to appear. Mai was tempted to camp out in front of the window and wait for him—it had better be a him—to show up, but the better part of her knew it would spoil everything, like peeking at your presents before your parents wrapped them. Mai had done that one year, and found it had robbed her of the joy of surprise. Instead of gasping at the elaborate dollhouse and exquisite pair of ice skates, Mai had listened to her parents snipe at each other all morning long. By the end of it, Mai had gone to her room and cried in her pillows.

So, from all that drama, Mai had learned an important lesson: peekers never prosper. No matter how much she wanted to know who was sending her the presents, Mai was not about to spoil the one thing that was actually special and exciting in her life.

To lessen the temptation to peek, Mai drew the cranberry blinds. _Four down, three to go._ No, she couldn't let herself start thinking that way. It would make the wait interminable. She had to distract herself.

But searching through announcements of new tournaments was downright dull work when you knew there were presents coming at any minute. Even if they weren't exactly diamonds necklaces, it was still exciting. Come to think of it, most of the presents had been pretty cheap. Not that she was complaining about it; she was just making an observation. Whoever was bringing the gifts was sticking to a budget. Most of the daily presents couldn't have cost more than ten dollars apiece—well, besides the tree, probably, and the gold ring necklace. Automatically, Mai's fingers went to her throat to trace the gold rings. She'd hardly taken it off for the past two days.

Unable to take the suspense any longer, Mai went to the window and opened the blinds. For the smallest instant, she wondered if she would catch "her true love" red-handed, and a thrill rushed through her. But there was no one there. Only a clear cd jewel case lying on the table. Mai hurried outside, ignoring the cold, and brought it in. It was a blank cd, with a Sharpie-scribbled Le Cygne on it. The handwriting was the same as on the cd she had received the first day.

Mai popped it in the drive of her laptop. As soon as she hit play, soft instrumental music washed over her. Mai closed her eyes and drifted away to four minutes of the most beautiful music she had ever heard in her life. Mai didn't know whether she wanted to cry or to spread her wings and fly away. She put the song on repeat, and listened to it about fifty times, while she searched for tournaments on the Internet. Then, she decided to Google "Le Cygne" and ended up spending a half hour reading about Camille Saint-Saens, watching a Youtube video of the "Dying Swan" ballet, and listening to other movements of his Carnival of The Animals suite.

It was only then that she remembered to check for more presents. Sure enough, there was a dvd case outside…with a picture of a beautiful blonde, a crowned swan, and the title "The Swan." Oh, bother, this wasn't a season of that awful plastic-surgery reality tv show, was it? Mai didn't care if it fit the theme, it was a complete piece of crap.

Only, fortunately for both Mai and the nameless gift-giver, on closer inspection, it turned out to be an old black-and-white movie featuring Grace Kelly. Mai put it on. Grace Kelly was a princess or something, and her mom wanted her to marry the prince, but there was this other guy, a tutor, who was _loads_ better looking. It wasn't even close. Who wanted middle-aged, mustachioed Obi-Wan Kenobi (and no, not the Ewan Mcgregor one; he would have been okay) for a love interest?

Mai watched the movie for a little bit, but she was having some trouble following the plot. The fact that she kept zoning out really didn't help. Old movies were so slow, sometimes. Maybe she'd have to watch it some other time when she wasn't so distracted.

Speaking of distracted…Mai glanced out the window. It was about time for her final present of the day to be delivered, wasn't it? Let's see, so far she had gotten…handsoap, Christmas ornament, kids' book, picture book, that cd with the scrumptious music, the movie, and…there was an envelope on the table.

Mai practically flew out the door. Inside the envelope were tickets for the local production of Swan Lake. Two tickets, to be exact. A strange tingle went down Mai's spine. Two tickets. That had to meant that her true love planned to reveal himself at some point. She checked the date on the tickets. December the 24th. The words swam before her eyes as an unexpected whirl of giddiness overtook her. Five more days. Five days of gifts, and then, on the last day…she'd meet him.

Well, hopefully, she'd already met him. Honestly, it would be pretty creepy if some guy (or girl, that would be worse!) she'd never ever spoken to had arranged this whole thing. Sorry, but Mai wanted at least a meaningful conversation before declaring something Meant To Be. Maybe that was why she never liked _Sleepless in Seattle_. Except for the scenes with the little boy; he was so cute. And she did like when they were interrogating the little girl, and she said, "NY" and her dad translated, "No Way," and Tom Hanks was like, "That's NW!" But all that was completely beside the point.

The point was, in five days, she would finally be face to face with the person who had been giving her all these presents, and find out whether he really was "her true love." Mai tucked the tickets safely into her purse. Somehow, she really didn't think this was going to help with her impatience problem. Also, somehow, she didn't really care.

* * *

A/N: Yes, The Twelve Days of Christmas is back on track! This Christmas, the story will most definitely be completed. Also, I am not a villain. But no, seriously, I will do my best to complete the story before Christmas. Send me angry emails if I start to slip. Did I mention I'm not a villain?

Also, check out_ Le Cygne_ on Youtube. Seriously, it is one of the most beautiful things I have ever heard.


	9. Eight Maids A Milking

Chapter Eight: Eight Maids A-Milking

_December 20__th_

"What the heck."

Téa looked up from the December issue of _Pointe_. It had arrived five days ago and she still hadn't managed to finish it. Every time she had a moment to herself, Joey showed up at her house looking for help. At this rate, she was never going to get to read the article on the Sugar Plum Fairy.

With a sigh, she put the magazine down. "I can't believe you didn't research the verses of the song ahead of time, Joey. I mean, this is day eight. It's not like you didn't have time to prepare."

"First of all, Téa, I was so researching ahead of time. I just got distracted, is all. I had a lot to do yesterday, in case you didn't notice."

"Oh, I noticed." Téa crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm also wondering when you're going to pay me back for those tickets."

"I'll get around to it, no worries." Joey flashed her a grin. "You know I'm good for it."

"That's what you told me when you and Tristan bought those plane tickets to Egypt," Téa grumbled. "That was two _years_ ago, and I still haven't seen a cent of it!"

"Aw, come off it, Téa. I'll pay you back, eventually. When I become an international duelin' celebrity, I'll have loads of cash."

"Great, I'll just hold my breath, then." Téa rolled her eyes. "I'm going to have to cut you off, you know. "

"Aw, you don't mean that, Téa."

Téa bristled. "Yes, I do. I don't work two jobs just to finance your love life, Joey Wheeler! I have a future to think about and dance lessons to pay for."

"But, but.."

"No buts. If you want unlimited funds, you'd better go convince Kaiba that helping you turn Mai up sweet is a viable business strategy."

Joey made a face. "No thanks. I'd take out a loan from the Mafia." He scratched his forehead. "But I don't even the Family could help me out on this one, Téa. Have you heard the next verse of this wackadoodle song?"

"Ye—es," Téa said cautiously, wondering where this was going.

"It wants people, Téa. People!"

"Well, you don't have to make it sound like a Man-Eater Bug," Téa said. "It's not going to drain their lifeforces or anything."

"I know that. But I can't give Mai a bunch of slaves, either."

Téa buried her face in her hands. "Joey Wheeler…" she muttered just under her breath. "You…you blockhead!"

"Whoa, Téa, there's no need to get nasty just because I have a moral objection to forced servitude!"

"F-forced servitude? You don't need them for a lifetime, Joey, just the one day. Heck, just for a half-hour or so, probably." Téa groaned, pulling at her hair. "Ugh, you make me feel like Lucy! Go, kick a football or something!"

"What, that chick from those fantasy movies? I'm not going into a closet with anybody!"

Téa closed her eyes. "Oh come on, Joey. Even you can't be that dumb."

"I don't care what the tabloids say about me and Kaiba," Joey muttered desperately. "I'm straight, I tell you, straight."

Téa blinked. "The tabloids…You and _Kaiba? _Oh, yuck. I think I'm going to go throw up now."

"Wait, don't go! I need your help."

"You need help all right. But from someone with board-certified credentials." But Téa was grinning. "Alright, Blondie. The doctor is in. Digáme."

Joey propped his elbows on the counter. "Eight maids a-milking. What do I do?"

"Well, you could always hire somebody…But eight people…even at minimum wage you're overbudget."

"You could lend me some money," Joey suggested helpfully.

"You could shut up now," Téa replied brightly. Joey promptly closed his mouth. Téa frowned in thought. "Since you don't have any money to hire people, why not just recruit your friends?"

"Huh?"

Téa smiled. "I'll be a milkmaid for you, and I bet Serenity would do it too. And Rebecca's in town—" her expression momentarily darkened. "I'm sure she'd _love_ to help," she said grimly.

"Okay, but that's only three people. Where are we going to get the rest?"

Téa patted the couch. "Take a seat, lover-boy. We've got some calls to make."

* * *

So Mai had finally finished watching _The Swan_, and now she was thoroughly bummed. The princess ended up with the prince guy? Every ounce of Hollywood logic screamed against it. The tutor was studly! The prince guy was balding. The tutor was sweet! The prince guy was vaguely charming. The tutor loved her, and the prince guy just wanted a good-looking blue-blood he could get along with. Mai grit her teeth as the credits played. What did that prissy prince have over the tutor, anyway, besides his title and his oodles of cash? Money wasn't a reason to have a relationship with somebody. What kind of emotionally-stunted, materialistic cow would…Oh.

Well…Oh, bother. She wasn't going to be able to rationalize her shallow lifestyle in this depressed mood. For that, she was going to need lots and lots of chocolate. Or possibly some wine. Scratch that, chocolate _and_ wine.

Mai was just reaching for the room service menu when there was a knock at the door. It was probably housekeeping. Mai hadn't left her room all day, so they hadn't been able to get in and clean. Well, she was decent. Not up to her usual glamorous standards in lavender velour yoga pants and a deep violet sweatshirt, sans makeup, but she wasn't going to stress about that.

"You can come in," she said.

The knock came again. Mai frowned. Housekeeping would have had a key. And _most _people would have said something. "Who's there?" she demanded.

Another knock.

Mai grabbed the brass lamp off the bedside table. Cautiously, she went to the door and opened it just a crack. As soon as she did, a whole trope of girls burst into the room. Mai was forced to stand back as Rebecca Hawkins, dressed in some sort of Swedish maid-looking getup, entered, followed by Serenity, Téa—who was grinning as if this was the most hilarious thing that had ever happened—Ishizu Ishtar, Vivian Wong, some blue-haired girl Mai didn't recognized, and…Mokuba? In a dress? With little pink ribbons in his hair? And was that Bakura behind him, his face almost as red as the roses on his apron? All of them were in the same costume and they were all carrying a bucket.

Everything clicked in place when Téa walked up to her and said brightly, "Good morning, ma'am. Do you have any cows that need to be milked?"

Mai started laughing. Not just a little girl, but the kind of deep laughter that just bubbles up from inside. She couldn't stop. Her belly hurt, her face aches, but she kept laughing uncontrollably, as tears trickled from her eyes. She clutched her stomach, still chuckling, as the eight maids a-milking chorused, "Merry Christmas," and paraded back out of the room giggling as they went.

* * *

A/N: In case anyone is interested in seeing an illustration for Chapter Six, there is a link to a quick sketch I did yesterday on my profile. Enjoy!


	10. Nine Ladies Dancing

Chapter Nine: Nine Ladies Dancing

"Look, Joey, you may be my best friend, but I am _not_ wearing a tutu for you."

"Awww, but Tristan...come on, man. Bakura and Mokuba flatly refused to dress like girls again. Mokuba said if I asked him one more time, he'd call his security guards on me."

"Good for them. How'd you even get them to agree to it in the first place?"

"Eh, Mokuba said something about owing Téa for helping him escape from the Rare Hunters back in Battle City. And you know Bakura…he's got all those guilt issues from all those times the spirit of the Ring almost killed us."

"_Dude._ You preyed on his emotional vulnerability?"

"Look, I was desperate okay? I don't know that many girls, and Bakura was the closest thing I could come up with. But now he and Mokuba have left me in the lurch, and I could really use your help."

"Nope. Sorry, man, but I am not putting on a tutu, especially not in front of Serenity."

Joey's face went purple. "You…" Everything else was a incoherent string of noises as he rushed at Tristan.

"Whoa, boys, break it up" Téa stepped into the living room. "I leave you two alone for five seconds…" she muttered, shaking her head. "What is it now?"

"Tristan won't dress up like a girl," Joey complained.

Téa lifted an eyebrow. "Yeah, neither will Yugi or Duke. They are willing to renegotiate if we need some leaping lords, though."

Joey's lower lip quivered. "What am I going to do?" he moaned.

Téa patted him on the shoulder. "Relax. I work at a _dance _studio, remember?"

"Oh yeah!" Joey brightened instantly. "So just get nine girls…"

"Uh-uh, Joey Wheeler. I have done more than enough for you over the past eight days. I am not putting my professional reputation on the line for your wacky love life. If you want to borrow some ballerinas, you're going to have to talk them into it yourself."

"What?"

"And leave the advanced girls alone. They have a performance tomorrow. Stick to the intermediate girl." Téa put on her coat. "Well?" she demanded, hands on her hips. "Are you coming?"

* * *

The ballet studio was just as bad as Joey had feared. It was decorated in shades of pink, with posters of young women in tulle and lace on the walls. On the floor, there were a dozen or so preteen girls at the barre. They all wearing tights and leotards and those little shoes with the ribbons. As soon as he walked into the studio, following Téa, every head turned to look at him. He could swear he heard girlish giggles ripple through the room. Oh, great.

Joey stood there sheepishly beside Téa until the dance instructor announced a water break. Within seconds, the waiting room was flooded with girls, most of them looking curiously at him.

"Is this your boyfriend, Téa?" one girl asked.

"Joey?" Téa reddened as she dismissed the idea with a laugh. "No way; we're just friends. Actually, Joey is here hoping to get a girlfriend."

A shrill chorus of giggles followed this announcement. Joey stared at Téa. 'Have you gone insane?" he hissed. His cheeks felt like they were on fire.

"Hey, I'll take that position!" called one girl, to cat-calls and laughter. Joey wanted to sink into the ground and disappear.

Téa laughed. "No, no, that's not what I meant." She smiled at Joey. "He has a special girl he's trying to win over." She proceeded to explain to all of them about the Twelve Days of Christmas presents.

"Awww!"

"Omigosh, that's so sweet!"

"Why doesn't _my_ boyfriend ever do something like that for _me_?"

"That's soooo romantic!"

Joey couldn't take the squealing anymore. Gah, this was worse than the girly aisle! No, no, he had to keep his focus. Think about Mai. _Oh yeah_…Joey closed his eyes, picturing Mai smiling up at him…wearing one of one those sexy Santa dresses…Wow.

His reverie was broken when Téa slapped him. "Whatever you're dreaming about, wipe that stupid grin off your face and get your head out of the clouds!" she hissed.

Joey blinked. Right. He had to get the nine ladies dancing. "So, um, would anybody like to help me?"

Practically every hand shot up.

With Téa's help, Joey picked out nine of the girls. They seemed even more psyched about the whole thing than he did, and decided to create their own mini-routine to do for Mai.

"I'll take them to the hotel," Téa told him. "After all, Mai already knows I'm involved."

"Right," Joey nodded. "So, if you've got things under control…I can go?"

"Yeah," Téa said absently. "See ya later."

Joey bolted for the door. Ahhh…no more pink. He sighed in relief, and then headed home, whistling Jingle Bells on his way.

* * *

It was half-past four when the knock at the door came. Somehow, Mai doubted it was housekeeping.

She was already smiling when she opened the door. She wondered if Mokuba and Bakura would turn in a repeat performance. Bakura would make a very pretty ballerina, wouldn't he? Poor guy.

But neither boy was among the troupe of dancers that sashayed into the hotel room. Actually, Mai didn't recognize a single face. They were all young—girls of thirteen or fourteen, she would say, and every single one of them wore a pink tutu, matching pointe shoe, and artificial flowers in their hair. As soon as they had come in, they all rose en pointe and began moving about the floor, waving their arms in that graceful ballerina way.

They began a dance. It was very pretty, Mai was sure, with lots of those plies and arabesques, and things, even if it seemed like it hadn't been practiced very often and the ballerinas seemed to be having difficult staying composed. Once or twice, one of them actually giggled. Finally, the short piece came an end, and the girls curtsied. Mai applauded dutifully.

"Very nice! Or, what is it you people say? _Bravissimo?_" The girls curtsied again, then rose, their faces flushed with excitement.

"Oh, did you really like it?" one exclaimed impetuously.

"Isn't it so romantic?"

"You're so lucky!"

"I know; I wish my boyfriend would do something like this for me."

"You've said that five times already, Katie!"

"It doesn't make it any less true."

As the girls began chattering excitedly, a sudden idea came to Mai. "I know, isn't it darling of him?" she said. "But how do you all know him?"

"We only met him today," one girl said, "he came to our studio with—" The rest of her sentence was cut off when her friends abruptly clapped their hands over her mouth.

"Oh, no you don't! We've been sworn to secrecy." The girl made a crossing motion over her heart. "You're not finding out a single thing from us!" A chorus of agreement followed her words.

"Not even one thing?" Mai coaxed.

"Our lips are sealed."

"Just tell me this…is he cute?"

The spontaneous burst of blushes and giggles would have answered her question even if the girls' lips hadn't instantly unsealed.

"I'll say!"

"Omigosh! So cute!"

"Those eyes! Like melted chocolate!"

At once, a hush fell over the girls. They shuffled their feet awkwardly, aware that that they had said too much. Mai grinned. "So he's a brown-eyed cutie, huh?" She winked. "Don't worry, I won't say a word."

Mai was thoughtful as the ballerinas left the hotel. Brown eyes, huh? Too bad she knew tons of guys with brown eyes. Jean Claude Magnum had brown eyes. So did Rex Raptor, for that matter. And Valon, Valon had brown eyes too. _Eyes like melted chocolate?_ Mai closed her eyes. Maybe. A torrent of painful memories swept over her, memories tinged in green. She opened her eyes. It could be Valon. But if she was honest with herself, deep down she knew there was one guy she wanted it to be.

One guy with eyes like melted chocolate.


	11. Ten Lords A Leaping

Chapter Ten: Ten Lords A-Leaping

_December 22__nd_

The little bell above the Turtle Game Shop tinkled as the door opened. Solomon Mutou peered at the lanky figure that stepped inside.

"Hello, Joseph. What a pleasant surprise to see you down here so bright and early. Got some last minute Christmas shopping to do?"

Joey scratched his head. "Well, yeah, I guess you could say that. Did Téa mention I was coming over here today?"

"Téa? We haven't seen her all week." The old man leaned over the counter and stage-whispered, "And let me tell you, Yugi's not taking it too well."

"Huh?"

"Oh, he'll never say anything about it. But I can tell just from the dejected slump of his shoulders that he's wondering why Téa hasn't even come in to wish him a Merry Christmas." Mr. Muto pulled a grievous expression. "I even put up mistletoe and everything."

Joey chuckled. "You think of everything, Gramps. Don't worry about Téa; she's not avoiding, Yug' or nuthin. She's just been helping me with a bunch of stuff. Which reminds me: Can you help me find some cards with "Lord" in the title?"

"Well, that's a bit of an odd request." Gramps scratched his head. "Well, off the top of my head, there's Lord of Dragon, and Lord of the Lamp, oh, and Vampire Lord, too, but those wouldn't fit in your deck at all, Joey. Were you trying to remember the name of a particular card? Maybe the database can help." He got on to the computer that Yugi had helped him install two summers ago and began painstakingly typing. "Now, let's see," he muttered. "What were we looking for again? Ah yes, cards with 'Lord' in the title." He began typing again.

After what seemed an eternity, he looked up from the computer. "Well, there's those three, plus, Lord Poison, Jester Lord, Ocean Dragon Lord- Neo Daedalus... " He read from the screen. "Any of those what you're looking for?"

That was only six. "Any more?" Joey asked hopefully.

"Yep. Machine Lord Ur, Archlord Zerato, Alien Overlord, Lord British Space Fighter…"

"Stop right there, Gramps," Joey interrupted.

"Is that the one you were looking for?"

"Do you got all those cards here in the shop?"

"All of them? Yes, but—l"

"I'll take 'em!"

"But Joey, none of them complement your deck at all!"

"That's okay. My deck already knows how awesome it is!"

Grandpa Muto sighed. "What I'm trying to say is that they don't support your deck and your deck doesn't support them."

"Oh. Heh. Well, that's okay, too, 'cuz they're not for me."

"But you're giving them all to one person?"

"You bet."

"But none of these cards work together at all!" Grandpa Muto cried in frustration.

Joey patted his shoulder soothingly. "Don't worry about it. It's a Christmas thing. Just let me have the cards, okay?"

"If you insist." Grandpa Muto went into the back storeroom and came out with the ten cards. He wrapped them up. "Now, how will you be paying for these?"

"Err…Put it on my tab."

"Your tab?" spluttered the old man. "Joey, you haven't paid your tab in over a year."

"Hey, that's better than Téa's doing."

"And that's supposed to reassure me?" The old man folded his arms across his chest.

"Aw, come on, Gramps. Please? Pretty please?" Joey's shoulders slumped. "It's Christmas, Gramps."

"Bah humburg," he muttered, but he rang up the purchase and handed the bag to Joey. "Now, you'd better pay me back," he started to warn him sternly, but Joey was already halfway out the store.

"Thanks, Gramps, Merry Christmas!" he yelled.

The old man shook his head. "Kids these days."

* * *

Mai turned the cards over in her hands, one by one, lightly tracing their designs with her fingernail. She read the name of the last card. _Lord British Space Fighter_. What kind of a name was that? It sounded like Bakura dressed up like Luke Skywalker or something.

Anyway, the intention was clear. Ten lords. They might not be leaping, but she got the idea. It was clever…but what was she supposed to do with these cards now? Despite the obvious symmetrical nomenclature, they wouldn't mesh with her Harpie Ladies at all. Heck, she wouldn't even be able to use half these cards. Archlord Zerato couldn't even be summoned without two cards that she didn't have. Somehow, she thought it would be bad form to hock them on Craigslist. So what was she supposed to do, just sit and look at them?

Hmm…Well, Archlord Zerato _was_ pretty cute, now that she thought of it. And Lord of Dragon, under that dragon-hoodie…yum. Mai sighed dreamily. She picked up Jester Lord and looked down at it.

Well that just ruined it. Bah humbug to you too, creepy face.


	12. Eleven Pipers Piping

Chapter Eleven: Eleven Pipers Piping

_December 23rd_

"So, I'm guessing we're not talking about tobacco here?"

"That would be correct. The type of pipe referred to in the traditional carol "The Twelve Days of Christmas" is a simple perforated wind instrument, such as the fipple flute, the tabor, and flagolet."

"Uh, Téa? What's Rebecca doing at your house?"

Téa sighed, running a hand through her short brown hair. "Her grandfather is off playing Senet with Grandpa Muto."

"Senet?"

"Senet is a game played millennia ago by Ancient Egyptains," Rebecca informed him, "It was played with—"

"Did it involve people's souls?" Joey interrupted.

"Um, no, I don't think so."

"How about freaky magic stuff, did it got any of that?"

Rebecca sighed. "Not according to my research."

"Oh." Joey relaxed. "Well, that's okay then. But how come Rebecca didn't just hang out with Yug'? He didn't go play this Senet game too, did he?"

"No, Yugi's helping his mom with some Christmas shopping."

"Oh." Joey blinked. "Well that's unexpected."

"Not really. Lots of people help their mom with shopping."

"Yeah, but I didn't know Yugi even had a mom."

Téa and Rebecca exchanged a look. Téa heaved an exasperated sigh. "Honestly, Joey, who do you think makes the cookies you're always eating over there?"

"_Oh_…you mean that quiet lady with the red hair and purple eyes? I always figured she was the maid or something. Weird."

Rebecca shook her head. "I can't believe you thought Yugi's mom was the maid. How dumb can you—"

"Wait a sec," Joey said, interrupting and completely ignoring her. "Yugi doesn't have a dad too, does he?"

"Of course he has a dad," Téa said. "He's just away on business a lot."

"No way!"

"Yeah, shocking I know. Can we please get back on topic now?"

"Okay, okay." Joey scratched his head. "So, the kind of pipes we're talking about are, like, flutes, right?"

"Basically, yes."

"So, all we've got to do is find eleven people who play the flute. Simple enough."

"Ya think?" Téa crooked her head. "How many people do you know that play the flute, Joey?"

"Uh…"

"That's what I thought."

Joey's shoulders drooped. "Maybe I shoulda stuck with the tobacco pipe thing. 'Cept all the bums I know smoke cigarettes, anyway." His head slumped even lower.

"I don't really think you could call a bunch of pipe-smoking guys 'pipers' anyway," Téa said kindly.

"Yeah, you're probably right. So what do I do?"

"Hire a marching band?" Téa suggested

"Yeah, with what money?"

"Point taken."

Joey leaned on the Gardner's kitchen table. "Man, I'm all out of ideas. It's Day Eleven. I'm brain-fried." He rubbed his forehead. "Where's Tristan at?"

Téa and Rebecca exchanged looks.

"Uh…" Téa began uncertainly.

Rebecca interrupted. "What do you need _him_ for?"

"He might have an idea. He was always looking stuff on Wikipedia for me, finding out some weird angle. Now, it's like he's dropped on the face of the earth. Seriously, where is he?"

"You need some brain power and you want _Tristan_'s help?" Rebecca tossed her head. "Not to toot my own horn, but just to remind you, you _are _speaking to a child genius."

"All right, then 'genius,' what kinds of things are 'pipers' without being pipers—you know, the kind that play wind instruments?"

Rebecca thought a moment. "Peppers," she said promptly.

"What?"

"Peppers. Piper is the name of the genus of True Peppers. Not like bell peppers or chile peppers. Peppercorns. Like black pepper, and _yerba santa_, and West African pepper, and —"

"Wait a minute. How do you think I'm going to get all these weird pepper-things."

Téa grinned. "I think I can answer that question: The ethnic food superstore."

* * *

Two hours later, Joey was leaving the store, shopping bags full of odd-looking peppercorns, half of which he couldn't pronounce the names of. Rebecca could, though. She had pointed out to him which of the scores of strange spices and herbs were "pipers." She had even offered to label each little jar of peppercorns with its scientific name, so that Mai would "get it." Joey wasn't sure that would completely help—it sure wouldn't have helped him. But he thought it was a heck of a lot better idea than getting a bunch of bums off the street to smoke some pipes, so he was gonna run with it.

Still, it needed something, something personal…like a note. Yeah, that was it. Inspiration struck and Joey quickly scribbled something on the receipt.

Rebecca glanced over at him. "Need help with something?"

"Nah." Joey grinned. "It's all under control."

* * *

Mai opened the door. There on the table were eleven little jars of…spices? She picked one up. The label said "matico," but beneath it was a little white sticker with neat black writing that said _Piper aduncum_. The others were all the same way—_Piper auritum, Piper betel, Piper nigrum_—hey, that one was just whole black pepper. They were all peppers. Or Pipers, apparently. That was …scientific.

Mai bit down hard on her lip as her heart sank. That was way _too_ scientific for Joey. Unless someone else had helped him. But who? Téa? Yugi? Tristan? None of them seemed likely to have come up with the "piper" thing. But then again, it didn't exactly scream Magnum or Valon either.

As Mai gathered the jars to bring them inside the house, she realized there was a note—just a scrap of folded white paper. Her name on the outside was written in the same bold scrawl as the CDs, not the neat, prim lettering on the jars. She opened the note.

_Thought it was time to spice things up. See you tomorrow. _

Mai felt like she could fly. Strangely scientific pipers aside, such a groan-inducing pun _had_ to have come from a certain brain covered by a dirty blonde mop.

"See you tomorrow," she whispered, as excitement tingled through her skin. Tomorrow had never seemed so close…or so far away.


	13. Twelve Drummers Drumming

Chapter Twelve: Twelve Drummers Drumming

_December 24th_

Mai didn't sleep very well that night. She tossed and turned, unable to get to sleep. When she did manage to drift off, she had bad dreams. Mostly, they were about meeting her gift-giver. Sometimes, it was Joey, but when she went to kiss him, he started screaming at her for betraying him and taking his soul. Other times, he turned into a monster and tried to eat her. Sometimes, the gift-giver wasn't Joey at all, but Pegasus or Marik or a ghastly clown. Either way, Mai awoke in the night countless times, shuddering and sweating.

By the time morning came, she felt horrible, and she probably looked worse. There were dark circles under her eyes and her expression was haggard. Mai had mostly eschewed makeup this week; she had hardly left the room. There wasn't any point in painting up for the pool, the gym, or the roomservice people. But today, she carefully applied concealer to hide the effects of her sleepless night, then did the rest—eyeliner, eyeshadow, mascara, lipstick, blush, the works. She had dressed in a slinky little dress—a violet a few shades on the light side of black.

_See you tomorrow._ The words echoed in her head the entire time. Well, it was tomorrow. All she had to do was wait.

* * *

And wait. And wait. And wait some more.

Mai had been waiting all day, without one sign of, well, anything. In one hand, she held the tickets to Swan Lake that had come on Day Seven. The showtime was 6:30. She figured the last gift—along with its giver—_had_ to show up by then.

The clock on the nightstand said 5:19.

Should she eat dinner? She didn't want to leave, but she could order room service. Only she had been hoping for a dinner date. Restlessly, she rose, and walked across the room to the mirror. She still looked great—although maybe she could use a fresh coat of lipstick. She started to re-apply it, when there was a knock at the door.

Mai was so startled, she dropped her lipstick in the sink. Hastily, she blotted her lips and ran to the door.

It was Téa, beating on a toy drum, and grinning brightly. She marched inside the door, followed by Yugi, then Rebecca, then Duke…In a matter of minutes, Bakura, Mokuba, Vivian, Mako, Tristan, Serenity, Yugi's grandpa, and some other old guy Mai didn't recognize had followed them inside. Mai mentally counted them as they walked in. _One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven…_

Téa gave her toy drum two loud raps, and everyone started drumming a drumroll. Then, a familiar figure walked through the doorway. He was pounding on a drum of his own, and he was singing.

_Shall I play for you, pa rum pum pum pum,  
On my drum? _

He wailed on his drum as if he were playing the drum solo in a heavy metal band, tossing his head wildly. Mai's shoulders shook, and she wasn't sure if she was laughing or crying. All she knew was that Joey was here, and that he loved her and that she—she knew it deep, deep, within her, as clear as the sun bursting through the clouds—she was in love with him.

He was still playing the drum when she threw her arms around him. The drum clattered to the floor. For just a second, Joey looked up at her, warm brown eyes wide, a huge grin lighting his face. Then Mai's eyes closed as his arms pulled her tight and his lips slanted over hers.

There might not have been any mistletoe involved, but it was still the best Christmas kiss Mai had ever had.

When they broke apart, Mai was aware of everyone staring at her and Joey. They were all smiling, but still…Mai's ears went pink.

Joey threw his arm around her shoulder. She realized suddenly that he was all dressed up. "Show's over, folks," he said. "I'm taking this lovely lady away with me—that is, if she'll have me." He threw Mai a questioning glance.

"Don't be stupid." Mai grinned. "Of course I'll come with you." She leaned over and gave him a peck on the check. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

There was a collective sigh as Mai and Joey strolled out the door, arm in arm. Mai felt like it was the end of one of those sappy Hallmark Christmas movies. Any minute now, everything would turn fuzzy and fake snow would start falling from the sky.

Only it wasn't the end at all. It was the beginning. A very good beginning.

* * *

A/N: In just before Christmas! Merry Christmas all!


End file.
